Our leaders around the country are in the midst of a big project. We’re taking a formal look at key roles and determining how we might fill them if the need arises. We’ve done this informally for years. We identify who wants to do more, then jointly build a path to get there.

Our Training and Development gurus have put more structure to the process. This has caused us to answer some tough but terrific questions about our bench strength. Every leader should do it, formally or informally, to ensure an effective plan when a role opens up.

That’s the dry, business-guy-speak.

R.E.M. just broke up. Love them or hate them, they were an amazingly influential band. The Twitterverse has taught me there’s zero middle ground where this band is concerned. I’d encourage you, if you’d like your mind blown a little, to search the list of songs they’ve performed and/or recorded. It numbers in the hundreds.

In the spirit of honoring R.E.M., I’d like to present four lessons I learned in our Succession Planning process.

Can’t Get There From Here (Fables of the Reconstruction, 1985)

I introduced myself to this album after I’d bought a few others. While “Driver 8” was definitely my favorite track, Fables is a great set front to back.

Early on in our daylong meeting to discuss various roles and how we might fill them, our facilitator asked a really wise question: “Who could take that role to the next level?” It’s a tough question, and she wouldn’t take silence for an answer. We can often replace someone who moves on or up with someone of equivalent skill. The question is: Does that get us where we want to go? It might, and people impress me all the time in their ability to blossom when given the chance. But we owe it to our colleagues and employer to identify people who can take a role to the next level.

The One I Love (Document, 1987)

My first R.E.M. cassette. I played this incessantly in a maroon 1981 Buck Skylark right after I got my license. Yeah, I know. Please don’t comment about that car. It’s what my sister and I shared. I’m not proud of it. I left the transmission on a steep hill in suburban Saint Paul, well up hill of where the vehicle came to its final resting place.

If you adhere to the above song title in a succession planning process, you’re sunk. Don’t play favorites. Not within your team, and not within your division. Seek outside input. Include everyone who could be qualified as a potential successor for a particular role.

Everybody Hurts (Automatic for the People, 1993)

I was in college. Let’s just stop there.

We never know what tomorrow or even the next five minutes will bring. Life in general, work in particular, “stuff” sometimes gets difficult. We owe it to our colleagues and our employer to be prepared. If we’re not…see the above song title.

All the Way to Reno (You’re Gonna Be a Star) (Reveal, 2001)

The band had largely fallen off my radar by this point. My public stance: indie-rock sensibilities made me too jaded to listen to anything these sellouts would put out (secretly, I still like the band…*shhh*). But the title is appropriate here.

Don’t assume you know your team members well enough to write their future for them. I was surprised more than a few times by people who would be perfectly willing to move to Seattle, Orlando, Saint Paul, or even Reno. We never know, a move might be what makes them a star. If you want to know what someone really wants to do, ask them. Do it in a safe manner. One in which they can provide feedback without fear of reprisal.

There were more lessons from our team’s daylong meeting, and there’s no endpoint to this process. We’ll continue to modify the plan on a frequent basis. We have enormous responsibility to develop the skills of our various teams. When the time comes, we’ve got people who can “Get Up” and “Stand” in a new role.

No R.E.M.-inspired work would be complete without a couple songs from Green thrown in for good measure.

-Matt Kormann is the Vice President of Freeman Audio/Visual